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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25940395">From eden</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rymden/pseuds/rymden'>rymden</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(they're both trans), Coming In Pants, Dom/sub Undertones, Grinding, M/M, Trans Character, Vaginal Fingering</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:15:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,967</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25940395</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rymden/pseuds/rymden</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Fuck, Martin-” Tim breathes. His words are muffled by Martin slotting their lips together again, tongue tracing his upper lip as he moves his hips with Tim’s.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>95</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>From eden</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>thank you rq for the fluff ep it refuelled my motivation to finish this</p><p>like the tags read both tim and martin are trans. words used for tim's genitalia are: cock and dick. words used for martin's are: clit, cunt and pussy. i would also like to say that tim pays a fair bit of attention to his chest and the words used there are breasts and chest.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Fuck, Martin-” Tim breathes, grinding onto the thigh underneath him. His words are muffled by Martin slotting their lips together again, tongue tracing his upper lip as he moves his hips with Tim’s. Another shaky exhale escapes him. The inside of his boxers is getting damp, he knows as he angles himself a little differently, feeling the fabric bunch sweetly at his cock. He can’t find it in him to care that he doesn’t have anything to change into later though, not when he’s straddling Martin’s lap on his sofa. If anything, it adds fuel to the fire burning low in his stomach, the thought of walking home with slick underwear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Martin’s hands roam his back. His left hand slides underneath his shirt to rub his spine, palm pressed firmly against his skin, while the right travels downwards to fondle his arse. It’s wonderful, being held in his warm embrace, and he makes sure to voice it with a low whine as he arches into the touch, still kissing Martin like his life depends on it. In the moment, he thinks it actually might, because if he leaves without coming undone he’s convinced he’ll actually die. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His thoughts are derailed when there’s a tug on his hair, tilting his head back, breaking the kiss. “Stay with me,” Martin murmurs into his jaw, gracing his teeth against the skin there. A low moan is pulled from his mouth, hips stuttering. Lips latch onto a spot just below his chin, sucking a bruise there. Martin is always particular about marking him with hickeys above the collar, and while it’s a bit of a nuisance to cover up in more professional settings, Tim makes it no secret of how much he loves them. His arms curl around Martin’s shoulders, unthinkingly pulling him closer as he tilts his head to the side to allow further access for more lovely marks. Martin complies, nibbling on his skin in a way that makes a shiver run through him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Martin…” he sighs into the air. He feels rather than hears the sound Martin makes at hearing his name, breath warm against his throat. Kissing a line back to his mouth, Tim smirkes, turning his head away from Martin. “Earn it,” he says, teasing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He huffs, annoyed, but Tim doesn’t miss the glint in his eyes before he begins attacking his throat in earnest. Biting down harshly before licking the spot and moving on to another bit of skin; under his jaw, the side of his neck, the bit of collarbone showing over his partly unbuttoned shirt. It drives Tim mad, pain mingling with pleasure, and he digs his fingers into the jumper under his hands to have something to hold on to. Rolling his hips still, he’s aware he’s getting wet enough to soak through his underwear, maybe even his slacks. The image of leaving a wet spot on Martin’s own trousers from his arousal makes him whimper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the sound he makes, Martin pulls back a little to peer up at Tim, eyes still shining with </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>that brings out his defiant streak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like what you see?” he teases. “I know I do- </span>
  <em>
    <span>ah,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he’s interrupted by his own groan as Martin tugs harshly on his hair. His head lolls back, following the fingers in his hair. Martin takes a moment to push away the strands in his eyes, stoking a thumb over his cheekbone, before they’re at it again, tugging Tim forward this time. He gasps, and Martin takes the opportunity to catch his bottom lip between his teeth. Biting down gently, he runs his tongue over it. Tim exhales shakily and grinds down harder, making Martin moan into his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He replaces his teeth with his mouth, kissing him feverishly again. Suddenly there is a hand palming him through his trousers, stroking him through the fabric. Arching his back, he breathes, “Please touch me,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A thumb lightly rubs circles on his cock through two layers of clothing. It’s not nearly enough, and judging by Martin’s smile he knows it too. “Earn it,” he echoes. Tim groans, both frustrated and </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> turned on. His hands slip underneath the hem of his jumper, pausing for a second to seek permission. Upon the slight nod he receives Tim pushes up the fabric, hands settling on his breasts. Warm and soft against his skin, he thumbs over Martin’s left nipple, pulling a sweet sigh from the man. His forehead has come to lean against Tim’s jaw, mouthing absentmindedly at a spot just above his collarbone as his fingers trace Tim through his trousers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tim rolls the bud between his fingers, pinching slightly, and feels Martin shift under him. He repeats the motion, tugging on the other nipple, and the noise he receives is a reward in and of itself. Bowing his head a little, he kisses Martin on the ear before gracing it with his teeth. The hand that is palming him presses closer and Tim grinds into it, releasing a shaky breath. It stays there for another moment before it disappears and Tim nearly whines at the loss of it, hips jerking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leaning back to look him in the face, Martin smiles, a small, mischievous thing, “How about this, you get me off and I’ll see if you’ve earned it.” Tim’s breath hitches as he exhales, anticipation simmering in his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Deal,” he says far too quickly, but he isn’t in the right mind to be embarrassed about seeming overeager right now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perfect,” Martin replies, cheeks flushed despite his calm exterior. He takes hold of Tim’s hair again, not pulling, but holding it firmly so that if he moves his head he’ll pull it himself. Tim relaxes in his arms. “Good boy. Now, I’m going to undress.” he mumbles near Tim’s ear, making a shiver run down his spine. He tugs his hair slightly, not enough to hurt but enough for it to feel. Getting the hint, Tim climbs off his lap and takes a seat at the end of the sofa. Martin stands, ridding himself of clothes until he’s fully nude, and settles down on the other end. Opening his arms, “Come here.” he demands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tim follows quickly, shedding his own shirt and sitting between his open thighs. Tracing the skin on the inside of his thigh with one hand, the other sneaks up to cup Martin’s breast, thumb rubbing circles over his nipple. “Would you like me to finger you?” Tim asks lowly. Martin gasps, nodding. That’s all he needs to relocate his hand to his cunt, spreading the lips apart to see Martin’s clit peeking out, twitching. “Beautiful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Martin lets out an embarrassed noise which turns into a groan as Tim grasps his clit between his index and thumb to stroke it lightly. “Tim…” he breathes, head lolling back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tim continues massaging the breast in his hand, stopping to pinch and tug at the nipple from time to time, as he works Martin’s clit. Already soaking, wet squelching sounds can be heard as he drags his finger down Martin’s slit to trace the rim of his entrance. The touches aren’t enough and Martin finds himself pushing his pussy toward Tim to make him act and put something in him. Tim is careful not to dip inside as he pets over his entrance, feeling it move under him as Martin clenches around nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tim, if you continue like this I’ll let you take care of yourself.” Martin tells him, voice on the edge of whining as he speaks, but Tim believes him nonetheless and obeys.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pays a little more attention to his clit, fondling it properly between his fingers, before sliding a finger into him. The effect is immediate, Martin letting out a deep breath he feels through his chest as much as hears. Martin’s own hand comes up to touch his other nipple. Tim pumps his finger in and out, slowly at first, speeding up when he adds another finger. Martin’s hips begin to move with him and Tim is absolutely certain he’s wet enough to leave a damp patch on his slacks. The view of his colleague, spread open and flushed with pleasure at his hand, is beautiful. Martin is beautiful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tim, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ah, </span>
  </em>
  <span>another,” he pants, biting his lip. Tim adds a third finger and fucks him deep and hard with them, still at a relatively slow pace. Removing his hand from Martin’s chest, he leans down to lick his nipple. Biting down gently, Martin’s hips stutter, trying to get closer to his hand and mouth simultaneously. His now free hand takes its place on Martin’s clit, grinding down the heel of it onto his clit in time with the thrusting. Martin moans openly. “Fuck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s wet and loose enough, so Tim adds his pinky, fucking him with four fingers, knowing how much Martin loves being filled. The result is almost immediate, hips bucking and thighs trembling, Tim can tell he’s close now. Biting down properly this time, he hears the hitch in Martin’s heavy breathing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few more minutes more and Martin comes, cunt clenching down on the fingers in it. Tim slows down the assault on his clit, but doesn’t stop moving his hands until Martin stops trembling. Sitting back up, he pulls away, and after a moment’s consideration he pops his fingers into his mouth to clean them off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, Tim,” Martin croaks at the sight, looking wrecked, hair plastered to his forehead and mouth hanging open as he pants. It’s an incredibly hot image and Tim’s dick </span>
  <em>
    <span>throbs. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“You did so good. Here,” he says, straightening out his leg a little so that Tim can straddle his thigh. “I know how much you like coming from grinding on things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tim groans, readjusting himself to that he’s got Martin’s leg between his own again. Angling himself a little so that he’s leaning forward, one arm resting on the cushion and the other wrapped around Martin’s shoulders for support. He grinds down, the pressure delicious on his aching cock as he rolls his hips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Christ, you’re so wet. I can feel it through your trousers, Tim. One of these days I bet I’ll find you humping your desk at work with how needy you are,” Martin continues, racking his nails gently along Tim’s back. Moaning, he lets his head rest on Martin’s chest, back arched as he moves. “Coming in your pants and having to walk around like that all day, I bet you’d love that. Tell me, would you, Tim?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nodding frantically, his grinding picks up speed, crotch now soaking wet, “Yes, I would. I’d love that so much, Martin.” he cries, nearing his peak. His hips have lost all rhythm at this point, resembling something much more desperate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, Tim,” he runs a hand through his hair. “Are you close?” he asks softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am.” Tim exhales.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” the hand in his hair stills. It lingers there for a moment, petting, before he tugs. Hard. Successfully pulling Tim’s head up to look him in the face. “Come for me,” Martin says, low and sweet. Tim moans loudly, eyes hazy and unfocused. His hips roll one, twice, before he shudders through his climax. Martin lets up on his grip, still holding Tim’s head up gently. “Okay?” he asks, bringing up his other hand to cradle his cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tim nods lazily. “You?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very,” Martin smiles, open and warm, and it’s like Tim falls in love with him all over again. “As fun as the idea is of having you keep wearing your clothes, I do think I have a pair of soft tracksuit bottoms calling your name. Might be a bit big, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tim huffs a laugh, resting his chin on Martin’s chest as he looks up at him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for reading! i have a nsfw twitter you can find me @rymdens</p></blockquote></div></div>
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